As he left the study, to telephone, he encountered Lady, very
woebegone and cringing, at the door. When he returned, he beheld
the remorseful little gold-and-white vixen licking her mate's
hurt shoulder and wagging a propitiatory tail in plea for
forgiveness from the dog she had bitten and from the Master whose
Law she had broken by her attack on the car.
Always, after her brief rages, Lady was prettily and genuinely
repentant and eager to make friends again. And, as ever, Lad was
meeting her apologies more than half-way;--absurdly blissful at
her dainty attentions.
In the days that followed, Lady at first spent the bulk of her
time near her lame mate. She was unusually gentle and
affectionate with him; and seemed trying to make up to him for
the enforced idleness of strained sinews and dislocated joint. In
her friendliness and attention, Lad was very, very happy.
The vet had bandaged his shoulder and had anointed it with
pungently smelly medicines whose reek was disgusting and even
painful to the thoroughbred's supersensitive nostrils. Moreover,
the vet had left orders that Lad be made to keep quiet until the
hurt should heal; and that he risk no setback by undue exertion
of any sort.
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